Toast
by KiraSakura
Summary: In which Bee attempts to make toast and Sam... Sam marvels over the miracle of holograms .x. beesam .x.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Transformers the movie. Hasbro does… I think…

**Warnings:** PWP.

**Author's Notes:** I am shocked and appalled at myself. Seriously. I have hated and despised the Transformers cartoons for as long as they aired on Cartoon Network and yet here I am. I blame my baby brother who hired out the movie and made my lovely best friend nudge me and go, 'I bet they have SamBee smut somewhere on your site' and thus he made me go and look it up and now I. Can't. Stop. Reading. It. And we both agreed that if our accents are as bad as Maggie's then kill us now.

Good God my Kingdom Hearts readers must be frowning at me.

ANYWHO. This was written on Satan's computer, thus the reason all the spelling mistakes and grammar and shit like that. Stupid Internet blowing up… and I pray to God my grandma doesn't realize I just used her incredibly slow computer to post smut.

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There was, Sam thought to himself as he watched the taller, broader, blonder boy waddle about the kitchen, something so completely arousing about watching your car's finally solid hologram try to make a piece of toast for you. Months, for terribly long months earlier Bee's hologram had been nothing but a transmitted picture, and it had felt like you were splashing your hand in lukewarm water when you touched it. But then Ratchet had finally showed the smaller, yellower robot how to solidify it, and finally Sam was able to reach out and feel skin, so soft and warm and _real_.

Upon his first feel, he had felt like it was Christmas and his birthday and New Year's Eve and Easter and all hose wonderful holidays happening at once. To finally be able to introduce your best friend to your other best friend, to show your parents the reason why you and your girlfriend had broken up – not that it was all Bee's fault entirely. Mikaela had agreed that they were better off friends – and to be able to wake up in the morning and see a firm naked torso next to you, to be able to intertwine your legs and smile happily when your boyfriend-car-giant-robot turned over and smiled that adorable sleepy grin that made your stomach flip was all utterly perfect and amazing in every single way Sam could think of.

"Sam…" Sam looked up and met bright, electric blue eyes. Bee cocked his head to one side in a way that Sam want to keelhaul anyone else who might have seen it – he could get Bee to scan a boat and transform to do it – and murmured, "How does one know when the toasted bread is ready?"

Sam took a gentle breath of air, nose instantly wrinkling at the heavy scent of burning bread that lingered in the air. Bee seemed to have noticed, and he asked, "So when the bread is burnt by human standards it is prepared?"

"Er… no… it just means it tastes really, really bad" Sam laughed as he climbed out of the stool he had been perched on. He walked over to the smoking toaster, and flipped it off at the wall. He then glanced in it, frowned, and popped it up. He reached out and took the blackened bread, and said, "Usually you only leave it in there for a few minutes"

"Few, adjective. A small number of" Bee repeated, and then he added, "Is ten minutes not a small amount of time?"

"Not really, Bee" Sam said as he slathered the toast in peanut butter. He then turned and yelled, "Mojo!"

Bee watched in amusement as the hyperactive animal – canis familiaris, dog, his quick search of the Internet provided – skittered into the room, yapping away happily at his master. Sam threw him the bread, Mojo's body twisting in the air as he jumped to catch it. It was devoured within a few quick snaps of the small but powerful jaws, Mojo giving a quick bark and his tail wagging enthusiastically. Bee couldn't help the slight chuckle that he breathed every time he came into to contact with the small creature, smiling sheepishly at an amused Sam.

"OK, so let's try this again. Just leave the bread in there for about three minutes" Sam said as he resumed his place at the kitchen counter. Bee hurriedly did everything Sam had shown him how to do – slice the loaf of bread into a decent sized piece, turn the toaster on and set the timer – and then stood back, his internal clock counting the milliseconds.

"How is it that a super intelligent robot can't make toast?" Sam wondered out loud, his brown eyes laughing and teasing. Bee rolled his eyes, and plopped down on Sam's lap, causing the boy to exhale with a sudden 'oof'.

"Meanie" Sam croaked as he wriggled about trying to get comfortable. Bee snorted, and turned about. He pressed a gentle kiss to Sam's chapped lips – that was the last time the boy was going to the beach without a chapstick, thank you very much – and replied, his warm artificial breath causing shudders to race down Sam's spine, "But you love me anyway"

"Mmm… true" Sam murmured, pressing his lips a little harder against Bee's. A small groan escaped the robot's throat, and Sam shivered when a soft tongue prodded at his lower lip, asking entrance. He parted his lips just slightly, teasing, suckling on Bee's tongue when it pushed itself in. Not for the first time Sam wondered vaguely as Bee pushed his shirt up a little how Bee could feel this, this indescribable pleasure, this wondrous feeling of skin on skin and tongue on skin and tongue on tongue and lips and suddenly Sam was arching his back as a wet and slippery muscle lapped at his nipples. He could remember how Bee had tried to explain it once, something about receptors and transmitters and needing to within a twenty-meter radius of his original body but that was all washed from his foggy brain when he felt a slightly larger, defiantly stronger hand press against his groin.

"Oh…!" He gasped, little tremors racking his body. Bee grinned against his human's stomach as he nuzzled it, and his hand continued to knead the centre point of what Sam was sure was his very soul at the moment because it felt some damned good. He felt soft lips move against his abdomen, mouthing something that he couldn't make out in his blurry world of pleasure and more pleasure, and then Bee was licking and nipping his neck as he whispered in his ear, "Does it feel good?"

"Y… ah… yes…" Sam gurgled back, and he let out a happy little squeal-squawk when Bee slipped his hand into his pants.

Gods, he felt so close, so damned close to screaming his throat raw because the hand around him was hot and heavy and oh so perfect and there, right there, just like that and ah!

Bee smiled when he felt heated liquid splatter and splash over his hand, allowing Sam to lean against his as he panted heavily and gently at the same time. The silence that fell over them was calming and soft, and Bee smiled when Sam pushed himself back, stammering, "I should... you know… you…"

Bee laughed, and replied, "OK…" only to be cut off by the sudden sound of the screaming fire alarm.

Sam let out a hiss as Mojo started to yowl, and they both looked up to see the heavy plumes of black smoke pouring from the toaster.

"… crap" Sam muttered, and Bee simply shot the toaster the evilest glare he could muster.

Later on, when his parents were waving the fire department off, they asked him just what had he and Bee been doing to not notice that amount of smoke coming from the toaster. They got a twin set of coughs and fidgets in answer.


End file.
